It was a quieter sort of day.
Today, I decided to try to tend to the front garden. It gets attention twice a year, whether it needs it or not. While pulling weeds, I flashed back to sitting in the grass as a kid with my mom, sisters, and neighbour. We would just sit in the front yard and talk while we pulled out the clover. I remember learning that clover winds it's way through the grass with an intricate network of stems and that it was like a puzzle, tracing those stems back to the source.
Suddenly, it was all about the clover. Tracking the stems, and working back to the centre hub. The teenager came outside to offer help and quickly found his way down to the ground as well, learning clover removal techniques.
As we sat there, following the labyrinth, we talked. We talked about all those things that parents and kids should talk about. We talked about school, friends, girls and his plans for life.
He is growing so fast, and in his mind, he is ready to be grown. His dad and I find ourselves struggling with the balancing act that is allowing freedom, while still ensuring that he doesn't try to fast forward through childhood.
We are children for such a short time, and adults for so long.
Smiling, I told her that, "It's not the clover that matters."
Today, it was time spent with my little man that measured my success.
The front yard will just have to wait it's turn.